Upon the Pebbled Shore
by Peregrin Ionad
Summary: Upon the pebbled shores of the sea stand two brothers, but as the tide begins to turn the sound of the gulls will choose their futures. This is for my brother, who didn't get the ending he wanted.If you notice any typos etc with this please tell me, as al


Fourth Age 125(Gondor reckoning) - The Shores of the Sea.

A chill wind blew in from the sea that day, a wind of sorrow, a wind of change. In the bay there bobbed a ship, small and sleek, crafted of a wood unknown. On the pebbled shore there stood two figures, both clad in elven-grey, both mirror images of the other, with tear glistening eyes. But both had told themselves 'a warrior does not weep'; not knowing that the other did likewise, and yet, how could they not. They clasp each others arms a final time, and gaze into each others eyes. One shakes his head gently; raising his hand as if to touch his mirrors cheek, but lets it drop to his side.

"There's nothing more I can do to persuade you is there."

"Nay" replies the other "My mind is set" Suddenly a gull cries out, startling them.

"You see, Elladan, to me the gulls call is nothing but the empty screeching of a seabird, I do not hear the music you hear, for me there is no call of the sea. I expect that is the cruelty of fate."

Elladan blinked back his tears "No more 'terrible twosome' then, won't Glorfindel and Erestor be surprised; I dare say they used to beg the Valar to split us up." Elrohir smiled slightly, but tears were beginning to spill down his cheeks. "Adar will not be surprised, he must have foreseen this day" he whispered.

"It happened to him to, Ro; but there are many futures, none more certain than the next."

A moment they stood in silence, then suddenly Elrohir spoke " When we were younger, I sometimes hated being a twin: do you remember the time when I cut off my hair because Glorfindel mistook me for you. Whenever I went anywhere without you I was always asked, ' where's your partner in crime?' I wanted to me, not just 'one of the twins' "

" Oh Elrohir" Elladan spoke softly "I never knew, Why did you never..." he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

Suddenly Elrohir felt a hand upon his shoulder, and he whirled around. It was Legolas, a solemn look upon his face. The look in his eyes was one that Legolas recognized, but could not place; as if Legolas had looked straight into his soul, but hadn't judged him by what he found there, merely accepted.

"That look in your eyes Legolas, where..."

"An old friend" Legolas spoke before Elrohir had finished, smiling softly "Just an old friend. But." Legolas sighed gently "The Sea cannot wait much longer, already the tide is pulling, and, yet, I would this moment had never come." He turned swiftly upon his heel and made as if to leave, but before he had taken two steps, he turned back and hugged Elrohir, whispering in his ear "_Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín. _Alas that our fates should be thus._ Namárië._" Then he was gone, like a breeze that merely tickles the smallest leaves, but the branches do not feel.

On the pebbled shore there stood two figures, both clad in elven grey, both mirror images of the other.

"No fair words of parting can I conjure "Elladan spoke softly, sadness in his voice." is it not irony, that I who had most gift with words has lost them, as I shall lose you."

In the dying light there stood but one figure upon the shore, clad in elven grey. As he watched the sun sink he heard once more the call of the gulls and for a moment he thought he heard in that cry music, a longing. But in his heart he knew it was not so and silently he turned and slipped into the trees, a shadow in the night.

The pebbled shore stood empty in the moonlight, the stones an eerie elven grey, and the wind blew, a wind of silent sadness, a wind of bitter change, and the waves lapped gently upon the pebbled shore.

* * *

_Ná Elbereth veria le, ná elenath dín síla erin rád o chuil lín- _May Elbereth protect you, may her stars shine on the path of your life.

* * *


End file.
